


The Winter's Shadow

by Shadow32557



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2020-07-12 15:50:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 19,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19948822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow32557/pseuds/Shadow32557
Summary: Carmen Van Duyn grew up with Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes. After being taken by HYDRA along with her friend Bucky, she suffered the same fate. Forced to become a monster, a killer, tortured into becoming an assassin for one of the most notorious organizations in history. She was given a name: Shadow. As legend goes, Shadow works alongside the Winter Soldier, a darker, more dangerous counterpart to him. Countless people fear her, claiming that the only thing that is human is her shape. Nothing more. An emotionless demon. A shadow. Follow her journey as she regains her past and finds her future, through pain, love, loss, and redemption.





	1. Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> This book will not be ordered in chronological order. The chapters will be important pieces of her life and journey that you will discover along with her, and piece together her story. As chapters are released, her life will become clearer, secrets will be discovered, and her life will be revealed.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this story and this character as much as I do writing it. I am, unfortunately, not a consistent updater, and things will be released when I am inspired to write a chapter and I am confident in what I have created. I hope that is not too much of a hindrance in your enjoyment. Thanks for reading!
> 
> There is a story playlist, which is in chronological order, on youtube that I will be updating as I find more music. It is merely for fun. I will link it in the beginning of the chapter.

** [Story Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLsdYvOvO5uyH2xtUzLYO64hXbrxY3YqF6) **

_**Spring - Brooklyn, New York - 1936 ** _

The sun was shining high in the sky, heat swarming in the air as morning turned in to noon and the trees swayed slightly in the light breeze. The flowers were in full bloom, beautiful blues, reds, and yellows caught the attention of passerby as children ran to pluck them from their places among the lushes green leaves. Carmen sat far away from the crowd, tucked away in a secluded hole between the many trees and bushes of the park. She rested on the grass, careful not to ruin her dress as she picked random flowers and tucked them into the strands of her hair. Steve sat on a large root beside her, telling her about his day and what had gotten him into yet another of his signature fights. She shook her head at him, smiling slightly at the scrawny blonde as he attempted to justify his choice to take on a boy twice his size. He was lucky she had been there to pull them away, exasperated that he had to get into one while Bucky was on a date with another one of his flings.

She sighed, looking at him with pursed lips as she teased Steve, "I love your spunk, I really do, but ya really gotta learn to tone it down before you get yourself killed."

His guilty eyes met hers as his shoulders dropped in defeat.

"I know, Cam...But he was making that poor gal uncomfortable. I couldn't just stand there!" His gaze gained a new determination as he refused to give up on explaining himself.

She giggled, rolling her eyes at Steve as she playfully pushed him and resigned, "You're too sweet for your own good."

He smiled softly, shaking his head as he picked up his sketchbook once more. She returned her eyes to the flowers, fingers gliding gently over the petals as she enjoyed the peaceful afternoon. She began to run her fingers through her hair, minding the blossoms in the strands.

"When do you thin-" Steve began to ask, but as she turned her head towards him, hand still pulling through her locks, he stopped. Grabbing his art box from beside him, he looked at Carmen, eyes alight with excitement as he burst, "Don't move! Stay right there. Just like that."

She cocked her head at him, eyebrow raising as she chuckled, "What?"

He flipped rapidly through the pages of his book, finding a blank page as he brought his pencil to the paper, his posture now sheepish as he realized what he said.

"I wanna paint that...It looks nice. You look nice." He stuttered out, a light pink dusting his cheeks as he fumbled with the box of paints in his hand, "You and Buck got me these new watercolors and I haven't gotten to use them yet."

She smiled brightly at him, giggling as he ducked his head shyly, "Alright. Go ahead."

He lifted his head, joy overtaking his features as he sat up, "Really?"

Carmen smirked widely, "Of course, Steve! I want you to enjoy those. And besides, I've always wanted to be a model." Her voice became jokingly prissy as she pushed her shoulder forward, puckering her lips as she lifted her chin.

Steve let out a snort, nudging her playfully with his shoe. As she settled back into her natural position, he began to scrape the pencil rapidly onto the page.

They both sat there for a while, Steve quickly switching from pencil to paintbrush as he gathered different colors and began to bring his sketch to life. His tongue stuck out slightly between his lips, brows furrowed in concentration as his eyes darted up and down between her and his book. Every now and then he would look up to see her making a ridiculous face or pose, a chuckle from him filling the quiet space before he would return to drawing.

His hand began to slow down as his shoulders relaxed, head tilting to the side as he looked at the last details.

"I think I'm done." He said as he laid his brush gently into its box again.

Carmen scooted over carefully, making sure to avoid any dirt on her clothes as he turned the book towards her, a nervous smile on his face as he timidly asked her if she liked it Her eyes scanned the colors and lines of the picture, a smile slowly stretching on her face as she took it in.

Facing him with her eyes full of amazement, she exclaimed, "It's wonderful, Steve! It looks fantastic."

He seemed to sigh slightly in relief as he grinned, thanking her. He looked back at the painting, nodding to himself as he ruled himself pleased with the outcome. He placed it down gently, keeping it open to allow it to dry as he looked around at the scene in front of him.

After a few minutes, Carmen began to stir, standing up to brush her dress off and letting out a sigh, "We should head back. Bucky's date will probably be over soon."

Steve looked at her with a knowing smirk, mischief in his blue eyes as he quipped, "What? Wish it was you on that date with him?"

She whipped her head towards him, a scowl on her face as she shoved the man off the root and mumbled, "Shut up, Punk."

He laughed, sitting up in the dirt as he shook his head at her, "I'm just kidding...even though it's true."

Carmen crossed her arms, glaring at him, but failing to keep it as he laughed, a smile overtaking her features once more.

Rolling her eyes, she extended her reach to him, nudging her head towards the exit to the park, "Let's go, Steve-O."

Accepting her offer of help, she pulled him up. He dusted himself off and gathered his things, arms swinging slightly in unison with hers as they both walked home, hand and hand, through the streets of Brooklyn.


	2. God of Mischief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An important character's first introduction into both the story and Carmen's life

**_Winter - HYDRA Base, Unknown - February 9,_ ** _**1982** _

Shadow could hear the metal clanks and shifts as the gears to her door were unlocked. Her eyes shot open, scrambling to her feet to stand at attention as her superior stepped into her cell. Armed guards flanked him as he walked in, hands clasped behind his back.

"Soldat." He acknowledged her, but she did not dare stir from her position.

Dead eyes locking with his, she stood alert, awaiting his orders. He gestured for her to follow him as he turned and sauntered out. Shadow stalked behind him, the guards following closely around her, guns at the ready. They would not need them. She did not desire to disobey. She did not desire anything. She simply just followed orders, with no feeling behind it. But as she was led into a large open room and brought face to face with the "temporary ally" she was told about, she felt something towards an order for the first time in decades. Intrigue.

The tall, raven-haired stranger stood in the middle of the room, one hand behind his back, and the other clasping the handle of a golden scepter. His piercing green eyes snapped towards her as she walked into the room. Her face remained stoic, but her cloudy, fractured mind was racing with questions that she could never ask.

"Shadow, this is Loki, of Asgard. He has expressed his need for items that you acquired on a previous mission and in return, he has graciously offered his assistance in claiming alien technology for our benefit." Her superior turned to her, gesturing at the man she now knew as Loki. "You will be working with him to secure your hands on Chituri weaponry."

"Yes, sir." Came her emotionless reply as she lifted her head to make eye contact with the Asgardian for the first time.

Shadow studied him, taking in the details of his unusual clothing, scanning the ornate carvings on the handle in his grip, eyes tracing the shine of the blades at the top, and finally landing on the glowing orb position between them. It captured her attention in a way she didn't understand, pulling her to it with a trance she couldn't break, until she saw, from the corner of her vision, a smirk form on the god's face as he watched her study the object. She redirected her attention to him, retaining her blank expression before looking back to her superior.

He watched her carefully with scrutiny as he judged her reaction to the new acquaintance and instructed, "He has been given the plan and you will follow his orders, and once you have completed your mission, you will return to base. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Loki cocked his head, intrigued as well by her, mostly that her reply was exactly the same as the last time and that she didn't seem to emote to anything at all. It baffled him. He had come to understand mortals as quite emotional beings, driven by their feelings and passions, blinded by their egos and pride. But she seemed robotic, human in none of the ways that mattered. A program, performing its job because it was told to, not out of the need to please its commander.

After receiving her final words and being granted permission to obey orders from Loki, the men left, sauntering out after giving Shadow a stern look.

She turned her body towards the god, shoulders back and at attention as she stared blankly ahead and stated, "Ready to comply."

He hummed, amused, and nodded. Beginning to stalk around her, he studied her as she had him, taking in every detail, line, and curve, her posture, lack of expression, dead eyes, and he smirked.

"Well, it is time for us to start, my dear." He stepped towards her, hand outstretched towards her as the scepter began to glow brightly.

Shadow watched him with narrowed eyes, as the smirk plastered on his face grew and a mischievous glint began to sparkle in his enchanting greens orbs before she was sucked into a hazy fog of colorful hues and sickening dizziness.


	3. Drafted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky shares unwanted news that changes their lives forever.

_**Fall - Brooklyn, New York - November 13, 1942** _

The orange light of the quickly setting sun bathed her living room in a warm glow. It seeped into the open window upon the soft, cool, autumn breeze drifting through the curtains. Carmen sighed happily, resting the alignment of her typewriter before closing the case. Standing slowly, she stretched her arms over her head and behind her back with a groan. The afternoon had gone by quickly, and despite enjoying the company of her friends, she always relished in a few moments of peaceful solitude. It helped clear her mind and steady her thoughts, like pressing reset on her brain. Checking the pocket watch dangling inside the small necklace cabinet upon her desk, she furrowed her brows at the time, before shrugging and deciding to make herself dinner.

Gliding into her foyer, Carmen gingerly moved the needle of her player over the record inside and Glenn Miller began to seep through the air. Smiling, she walked back into her kitchen and began to pull out two eggs from the fridge. Her old family friend, Mrs. Bartille, had been very lucky. The Depression hit everyone hard, but her farm had been producing more than she and her husband could eat. After sharing with her family, she'd always give her what she had left. It had been hard to accept it from her, but she insisted. She'd even give some to Bucky and Steve if she had enough, despite the fact Carmen shared with them regardless. So, even though they were sort of a treat, she decided she deserved to indulge in some eggs.

Pulling out a plate, she set it on the counter, turning towards the stove to put a pan upon the burner. As she reached to turn it on, she heard a light knock at the door. Within the same second the noise hit her ear, the door was squeaking open, and heavy footfalls began to move through her creaky apartment. Already knowing the identity of the visitor, Carmen smiled and turned around to grab a second plate.

A sudden screech cut her music as the needle was pulled away from the record. She furrowed her brows, turning around with a confused smile on her lips, that quickly faded when she registered the look on Bucky's face and the defeat in his voice.

Fiddling with a letter in his hands, he looked at her with an expression she had never seen on the usually charming man's face and swallowed.

"We need to talk"

____________

"D-drafted?" Carmen stuttered out in disbelief, eyes scanning Bucky's face for any sign of deception.

Her hand came to run through her hair, as she swallowed thickly, "B-but you can't be drafted! You can't.."

She sniffed, quickly wiping away the stray tear that rolled down her cheeks. Bucky looked down sadly, shifting uncomfortably on his feet as he willed his voice not to crack.

"They need men, Carm. And..I'm able to fight so I have to go." He whispered out, taking a step towards her with his hand lightly turned out to reach for her.

She steadied her breathing, forcing herself not to cry in front of Bucky. He cleared his throat with a crack and her eyes shot to his as they began to glisten. She furrowed her brows shakily as she watched his hands begin to tremble.

Carmen stepped forward and breathed, "Buck.."

He looked up with desperation in his eyes as they brimmed with tears and his voice faltered as he rushed, "We can't tell Steve...y..you know how worried it'd make him. As far as he's concerned, I enlisted...i..i wanted this."

His voice broke and he let out a shaky breath that hitched in his throat as she suddenly launched onto him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. She didn't want to lie to Steve, but she knew it was for the best.

"Okay, Buck. I won't. I promise."

He wrapped his hands around her back and nodded. But slowly his grip strengthened as he dropped his head on her shoulder.

"You and Steve need to look out for each other, ya hear? Take care of each other. I don't need you two getting into trouble when I'm not there to get you out."

She nodded determinedly, tightening her grip on him as she confirmed, "I will. Wherever he goes, I'll follow."

She had only seen Bucky cry once, in all her life, only once. He wasn't one to show his emotions like that. He was never cold, or heartless, but tears were not something he put on display. So it only made this worse when her shoulder began to dampen as tears fell onto the fabric. She couldn't stop a few more of her own from rolling down her face as she sniffled. He was shaking slightly, Carmen realized, and his hands were curling into her hair. On any other given day, the action would have heat rising to her cheeks, but with the direness of the situation she now found yourself in, her crush was long forgotten.

"God I'm gonna miss you, doll." He whimpered, slowly rocking the both of them as he moved his chin on her head.

Her heart fluttered at the confession, but the gravity of his words tightened her chest painfully. Bucky was leaving her. He'd be gone for who knows how long.

_And he might not come back_

With that thought, the levee broke. She didn't want to cry. What right did she have when he was the one who was going to war? But she couldn't contain yourself, and a broken sob left her lips. Bucky sighed sadly and lifted her effortlessly, spinning her slowly.

Placing her back down, he placed a small kiss to her hair as he gently detached from the embrace. He sent her a soft, quivering smile, ghosting his thumb over her cheek to wipe away a tear. Laughing nervously, he raked the palm of his hand over his face, collecting his own tears, before placing his hand on her shoulder.

Giving it a little squeeze, he cracked one of his signature grins as he looked past her into the kitchen and jested, "I hope you were making some of that for me."

She looked at him incredulously, her lips turning downwards as she swatted his arm.

"Seriously, Buck?" Carmen groaned softly as she wiped away her tears, fighting back his contagious smile.

His grin faltered slightly as he watched her, but it returned as he attempted to reassure her, "I'll be alright, Sugar. Just like always. Then I'll be right back home with you and Stevie."

She looked at him, scanning his features to commit them to memory as she weakly nodded. Forcing a smile that slowly became real as she watched him put his whole heart into trying to make her feel better, she giggled softly.

He grinned back, patting her shoulder before sauntering past her and dead-panning, "Seriously though, Carmen. You makin' any of this for me? I'm starving!"

Rolling her eyes, she dried the rest of her tears and shook her head, following him into the kitchen.

"You really are somethin' else, Bucky Barnes."


	4. Detachment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howard Stark is about 12 years older in this AU. It just works better, a lot better. 
> 
> I will just say it now, this story will touch very deep, dark topics and issues and basically if you're sensitive to anything, this isn't for you. I won't be using constant warnings but I will for this chapter to warn you.  
> Trigger Warning(s): Depression, suicidal thoughts, mention of self-harm (cutting), mentions of death, loss of family member (Father), self-neglect, just really horrible all together
> 
> If you ever feel depressed or sad don't ever hurt yourself! Talk to someone, draw, sing, there are other ways. I love you all and sorry for the angst

_**Fall - Brooklyn, New York - 1929** _

The day dragged on slowly. Carmen hadn't moved from her spot in her chair, watching with a numb gaze as the children played and laughed in the leaves. She felt no joy, no urge to join them, no care in the world about whether she'd eaten today, or slept last night. It didn't matter, not to her. She felt wrong and not herself as the clock's ticks pierced the stagnant atmosphere of her silent room.

Howard had hesitantly left an hour ago, a frown and a kiss to her forehead as he assured her he'd be back before dinner. She had answered with a somber nod and a whispered "ok", not really bothering to look at him. She knew he'd knock on the neighbor's door, ask her to keep an eye on her, and in a last-ditch effort to ease his conscious, stop by Bucky's to ask the same of him and Steve. He always did when leaving Carmen alone.

It was a slight controversy, leaving an 11-year-old home under her circumstances. But with the times being as they are, most people were fairly well grown by this age, self-sufficient enough to take care of themselves if they were to be dropped on the streets. With the Great Depression sucking the money out of the country, it was becoming far more likely of a scenario.

However, with the way she grew up and was raised, she was far more precocious than most. She was fine being alone. She could take care of herself. She knew how to cook, how to entertain herself, what to do in an emergency. But today, it didn't matter. Carmen didn't want to cook, she wasn't hungry. She didn't need to entertain herself, her mind had shut down and went numb. She didn't care if the house was burning down, she wouldn't get anybody. It didn't matter. She could die in that house, and it wouldn't matter. She could shrivel up and fade away, disappear altogether, and it wouldn't matter. Why should it?

Some days were worse than others, some days were better. But for the past few years, she didn't know of a time when she can say they were great. The death of her father hit her like a ton of bricks. Although Steve and Bucky were always there, and Howard took her in without question, it just wasn't right. It just wasn't him. She was closer to him than anything. She idolized him, looked up to him, put her heart and soul into wanting to be like him. She loved him. And now she missed him more than she could say.

When it happened, it took her too long to process it. Some days she wishes she never did. The second the thoughts finally made sense in her head, her world crumbled into shambles. She fell into a deep depression that she couldn't crawl out of. At first, it was just sadness, a sadness that morphed into paralyzing grief. It turned into numbness soon after. Like a vicious cycle, it would happen over and over until she was left with no energy to get up, to open her eyes, to breathe, to live. At first, she didn't understand. Carmen was young and innocent. The thought of death was not a common occurrence in her young mind, but it was growing and growing in frequency as time went on. She didn't know what it felt like to want to die, and it was a foreign concept to her.

_But not anymore._

She was so young. Too young, and she didn't have the sense enough to speak up. To talk, to explain her feelings. Inside, she knew why. She was scared. Too scared to tell Howard or Bucky or Steve. Her father taught her to share, her mother forced her to internalize.

Now, after losing both in such quick succession, it twisted her small mind to a point she couldn't take. It started with insomnia. Never being able to close her eyes at night without seeing... _him._

She soon began to lose her appetite, Howard having to sit at the table for hours until he could get her to eat. Digging her nails into your palm was next. When she was nervous, anxious, sad, or angry, she would tighten her hand into a fist, piercing her fragile skin. It was a habit. But within that habit, she discovered something. The pain distracted her. Only for a second, but a glorious second. It set the gears in motion.

 _"More pain, more relief."_ She had thought to herself.

She had come upon it in a book in her mother's study. _Psychology of the Mind_ it had read, embellished into the spine of the leather. The contents of the book had slipped past her mind until she got to a certain section.

"Depression cont. : The Individual's Perceived Coping"

Now, she recalled the word, the very thing having been whispered among Howard and a fellow coworker as they'd glance ever so often at her. Then, it had meant little to her.

Nevertheless, it intrigued her in a way she didn't understand. So Carmen began to read, hopping over the words she couldn't even pronounce until she came upon a rather grotesque image. A pale wrist was photographed with stitches holding together several rough cuts along it. Her small eyes had widened in horror as she hastily scanned the paragraph beside it before slamming the book shut, placing it carefully back into place, and bolting from the room, shutting the doors behind her. She had never touched the book again, but the contents within it remained with her.

6 months after her father's death was the beginning of it, and it became a compulsion. It was a fail-safe to her. If the day was falling apart, out of her control, or too hectic to keep up with, she cut. It grounded her, distracted her, gave her a sense of control. She felt like she needed it. A feeling that pulled her to where she was now.

Her dead eyes met her reflection in the mirror as she sighed deeply. Rubbing her hand tiredly against the worn porcelain, she began to wash the red from the sink. Tightly wrapping the gauze around her wrist, she pulled her long sleeve back over the skin. Stumbling out of the bathroom, she shuffled into her bedroom. Carmen hid the razors back inside her bookshelf and plopped, exhausted, onto her bed. The old door to the apartment creaked open, and footsteps echoed in her pounding head. Stiffening, her eyes widened in fear before she quietly turned her back to her bedroom door. Closing her eyes tightly, she calmed her breathing and hoped he wouldn't come in as she pretended to be asleep. The door slowly opened as Howard stuck his head in through the crack. There was a moment of agonizing silence before he sighed softly and closed the door again. After a few minutes of making sure he was gone, she crawled out of bed and shuffled toward her window. Seating herself on the sill, she brought her knees to her chest and rested her cheek upon them. Gazing out of the window, she sighed and scanned the scene. The sun was setting behind the city skyline and the last few cars on the street drove quietly down the road. A flock of birds took flight from a nearby roof and soared across the orange and pink sky. She could see Bucky's apartment complex from her room, Steve's lying just beyond her view. As the sun dipped lower out of sight, various windows began to glow with light from inside and faint, decrepit, street lights weakly illuminated the ground. While the sky turned to black, the numbness in her body returned and her eyelids drooped. She doesn't know when she fell asleep.


	5. Dear Diary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few excerpts from Carmen's childhood diary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The MCU is slightly tweaked, some dates are different than depicted but I don't think they make that much of a difference. Any other MCU knowledge you have, assume that it is true unless contradicted by the story.

**_This diary belongs to Carmen Van Duyn. Please do not read it without permission. It is mean and it will make me sad. Daddy says that writing in a diary is helpful and it will keep me organized. So that is why I have this._ **

**_October_ ** _**3** _ **_, 1922_ **

Dear diary,  
Today at school I met a new friend! His name is Steve. He's super small and he's got blonde hair and he's got blue eyes and he's really nice. Some boys were being mean to him on the corner in front of the school but I stopped them! I told him that we could walk together to school every day so that wouldn't happen! He said he would like that. I sat with him at lunch and he showed me his friend! His name is Bucky. He's gonna walk with us too. He seems a little bit like a jerk but I think he's just pretending. They live down the block from me.

_**December 20, 1923** _

Dear diary,  
Daddy let me invite Steve, Bucky, and their mothers for Christmas dinner. Mother wasn't happy but daddy insisted. She said she has a work meeting anyways. Daddy was upset but...no one argues with her about work. I met Mrs. Rogers and Mrs. Barnes last December when I forgot my key to the door and I had to wait till mother got home. I didn't know they would be so sweet. They let me stay inside so I didn't get cold. Steve and Bucky seemed to really love them. I'm excited to spend Christmas dinner with them. It' s gonna be really fun. I think they're my best friends. I hope they feel the same.

**_December 31, 1923_ **

Dear diary,   
Christmas dinner was really really fun! I got to show my presents to Steve and Bucky and they let me play with theirs! We didn't have a lot but daddy said that everyone is having a hard time with money and it is hard to get presents. I'm happy anyways. Daddy said that I can watch the fireworks with them tonight for New Year's! It's gonna be super cool. 

_**January 21, 1924** _

Dear diary,  
I got in trouble today for getting my clothes dirty. Mother was really angry when I came home and now I have to stay in my room for the rest of the day. Me and Steve and Bucky were playing in the park on our way home. Bucky found a bug and was trying to make me touch it. I don't like bugs and I fell and got my dress dirty. He was really sorry though. Father isn't going to be home till late because he has to work with Mr. Stark and Mother said I can't tell him about staying in my room. So now I am writing so I don't feel bored. It is getting dark and Mother said I can't use the lights because it will waste money. I don't think I can write much more because I can't really see the paper. But I had fun in the park anyways. They invited me over to Bucky's house so we can all play. I will have to ask Father. 

**_February 29, 1924_ **

Dear diary,  
Steve is really sick. Bucky said he can't come to school and might have to go to the hospital. We are really worried and Mrs. Sarah is really sad. Bucky told me that the hospital is really expensive and Mrs. Sarah doesn't have enough money. Mrs. Winifred is trying to help with money. He hasn't been to school for a while. Me and Bucky are trying to do some of his make up work so he doesn't have to. I really hope he is okay.

**_October 31, 1924_ **

Dear diary,  
Today is Halloween! Mother has a work trip this week and Father said I can go trick or treating with them! I am really excited. He helped me make my costume! I'm gonna be Tinkerbell because that's my favorite book! Steve said he'd be Peter Pan and Bucky would be Captain Hook! I can't wait to see their costumes. We're gonna get a lot of candy! I have to go, Father is calling me to try on my costume!!

**_June 17, 1924_ **

Dear diary,  
Father says Mother is not coming home again. He said she left us. He looked really sad. I don't know why but I kind of feel glad. She was mean. Am I bad for that? Father said it's not anybody's fault but I think it's mine. I saw Mother with someone in the house. They were talking about something for her work. She said they had to get rid of someone. I don't know what that means but she was really mad at me. I was in a lot of trouble. Mrs. Sarah and Mrs. Winifred said they would help out me and Father if we need them to 

**_November 3, 1927_ **

Dear diary,  
Father always said it was important to write even on the worst days. So I will but I can't write a lot because....he's dead.

**_November 30, 1927_ **

Dear diary,  
I miss Father

_**December 2, 1927** _

Dear diary,  
I don't know why but...I hurt myself. I needed to. I miss Father and it hurts.

_**January 3, 1928** _

Dear diary,  
Steve caught me. I didn't know he was coming over. Howard was at work and...he caught me in the bathroom. He stopped me and he looked so sad and confused. He told Howard and I'm in trouble. I've never seen Howard cry before.

**_July 4, 1934,_ **

Dear diary,  
It's Steve's birthday! Bucky and I surprised him this morning. Like the swell friends we are, we set firecrackers off in his bedroom at 3:30 A.M to ring in his birthday and Independence Day! The look on that punk's face. But it was all good when we showed him is present. It cost us a whole 55 cents!   
Happy 16th Birthday, Steve!

_**April 14, 1934** _

Dear diary,  
Of all people in the world, why do I have to have to carry a torch for him? Why? Does the world hate me? He'll never like me back anyways. I've been stuck on him since I met him and he doesn't seem to see me as any more than a friend. Besides, he's always got a new dame on his arm every week. He'll never take the time for me. Damn my luck and damn you, James Buchanan Barnes. 

_**May 18, 1934** _

Dear diary,  
Mrs. Winifred, Mrs. Sarah, and I have started to have girl's nights. They're nothing bananas, cause dough is still tight, but they are still the bee's knees. We get all togged to the bricks and go out anywhere we can. Sometimes we just stay home and have a nice dinner, send Steve and Bucky off to go be boys somewhere else. They're really swell. Closest things to a mother I've ever had. These nights really mean a lot to me.

**_January 4, 1935_ **

Dear diary,  
I don't know what to say. I don't know how to help him. Mrs. Winifred is dead. Bucky's....distraught. Steve and I have been trying to help him but he always has to have that tough guy act all the time. She was always so wonderful to me. I miss her.

_**February 1, 1935** _

Dear diary,  
Bucky's doing better. He's old enough to live on his own now so he's doing just that. He seems a lot better. He's always been good at picking himself back up. Steve and I visit a lot, he does the same with us. I admire him a lot more. 

_**June 1, 1936** _

Dear diary,  
I spent the day with Steve. Bucky was off on another one of his dates. Steve and I sat in the park and he drew a really beautiful picture of me. He's becoming so talented. I'm really proud of him.

_**August 14, 1936** _

Dear diary,   
Tonight's sleepover night. We're staying over at Bucky's place. Steve still thinks I kick in my sleep. I don't think he realizes that it's revenge when he irks me sometimes. I love his punk ass. On another note, we're going to a film tonight! We're sneaking in so we don't have to pay.

_**October 15, 1936** _

Dear diary,  
Mrs. Sarah...she passed away today. Tuberculosis. She caught it from the ward she worked at. Steve's trying to hold himself together but I know he's breaking. He's on his own at home now. Bucky offered a place at his apartment but he wants to get by on his own. We're worried about him. I know he's strong but this is really hard on him. I should be there to comfort him but I just can't stop crying. He's trying to refuse our help anyway. Even if he doesn't want it, we've still got our pact.

We'll be with each other till the end of the line.


	6. Sentiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet night under the stars, where feelings are disclosed.

**_Spring - Unknown - 2015_ **

**Warning(s): None**

Being away from big cities had many perks, but there was one, in particular, Carmen liked the best: the stars.

"I used to be able to see a whole bunch in New York," she said quietly, breaking the long-held silence, "Or...at least I think I could. I remember bits and pieces of sitting out and watching them. So there must have been a good bit to look at, not like today."

She let out a sigh, rubbing her temple as another headache was stirred up. It always hurt to remember.

She leaned back more, perched on her elbows as she scanned the pinpricks in the sky. All the way out here, she could even see the band of the Milky Way, much to her glee. It was more beautiful than she'd ever imagined.

He sighed beside her, clearing his throat gently to keep her from startling and she felt two cold hands press firmly against her temples. Her eyes closed as a numbness filled her head, soon blossoming into a rare feeling of calm as her headache disappeared. A contented sigh escaped her, and he smiled ever so softly.

"Do you remember much of then?" he asked, his voice like silk, always holding a regal tone.

His hands skimmed over her hair, taking the strands between his slender fingers and beginning to braid them.

"You know I may be able to bring them all back, won't you let me try?" He tried to coax her, absentmindedly plucking a flower from the grass beside him and tucking it in her hair.

She dropped her gaze to her lap, taking a deep breath as she forced herself to say no, even though she wanted more than anything to say yes.

"I don't think it's a good idea. My head's fucked as it is. Bringing that many memories back seems dangerous. And I'm worried something will go wrong if I don't remember everything myself," she scoffed sadly, "I mean, just remembering one thing hurts. I don't really want to think about what it would feel to get it all back like that."

He nodded behind her, even though she couldn't see, and let go of her hair, standing to his feet as he came into her view, hand extended.

His tall, slender form was silhouetted in the moonlight, the darkness of his hair blending into the night sky as he beckoned, "Come on."

Carmen peered at him, eyebrow cocked as she fought back a smile, "Loki.."

He flashed her a gentle grin, emphasizing his awaiting hand as he shushed her, "Just come, trust me."

With a sigh, she gripped his hand and he hoisted her up, not letting go as he lead her further up the hill they'd been laying on. Walking hand in hand, she got closer to the edge, which plummeted down sharply at the end and looked as if she could step right off it into the stars. He stood heart-stoppingly close to the drop-off, pulling her to stand shoulder to shoulder and her breath hitched at the sight.

He slowly bent to sit, dragging to do the same as his long legs hung over the edge, she swung hers over to join him, inhaling the fresh air deeply. A minute of silence past, filled only by the quiet rustle of wind, before Loki cleared his throat and raised his hand.

Pointing to the sky he leaned and started, "Have I told you the story about Orion yet?"

She smiled, shaking her head with a soft, "No." He always did this when her mind would wander or she needed to be calmed. He probably told her a million stories by now about the stars.

"Well, my star, with his great skill as a hunter, Orion provided meat each day for the gods' meals. One day, Artemis, the moon goddess, and goddess of the hunt asked if she could accompany Orion on his daily hunt."

His voice floated through the air, soothing her racing mind and he spent the next hour sharing legends he knew about the stars. After seemingly exhausting his supply of lore for the night, he turned to look at Carmen, who'd leaned to rest her head on his shoulder, and smiled, planting a gentle kiss to the side of her head.

"You've ruined me," he chuckled softly, causing a scoff to escape her lips, "Look at me, I'm becoming a softy."

He could feel her shake her head and knew she'd rolled her eyes as she teased, "What, you've got a problem with sentiment?"

"Normally, yes," Loki said, his silky voice soothing to her ears, "But you're my exception."

Her smile grew and a warmth spread through her chest as she bent her neck to look at his profile, "Are you trying to say you trust me, Loki?"

He hummed, shrugging, "Possibly."

Carmen looked back out to stars, fingers moving slowly to intertwine with his as she confessed softly, "I probably trust you, too."


	7. MCU Timeline Basics

Just wanted to say that the MCU timeline is shifted significantly starting with A: AOU. The events will remain the same unless stated otherwise, the only change is the date in which they take place. To explain briefly:

Age of Ultron- 2017

Antman- 2017

Doctor Strange- 2017/2018

Civil War- 2019

Black Panther- 2019

Etc.

These changes were greatly considered and I have decided these altered dates would fit better with the story I had in mind. I don't believe the date will affect much in the plots of each movie if anything.


	8. A Shoulder To Cry On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve comforts Carmen in the early stages of her recovery

**_ Winter - Avengers Tower, Manhattan, New York - December 2019 _ **

_It was still early in the stages of their recovery, they still avoided the other like the plague, still kept to themselves. Bucky had attempted to be chivalrous but seemed to fall short each time he opened his mouth to speak to her. Carmen went one way, he went the other. Much to Steve's relief, they had calmed down enough to not try to kill each other every time they were in the same room. But with each recovered memory, their interactions became more and more awkward as old moments of long gone friendship resurfaced. They spent most of their time in their rooms. Steve scrambled back and forth constantly to help them, but he had the most trouble getting them to accept it. Carmen was always resistant, brushing him off no matter how much she was struggling. Even if she woke up screaming, throat raw from a nightmare, in a panic, unable to breathe, she'd push him away. He was left with no option but to sit by sadly as he watched her fight to restore the pieces of herself. Bucky was similar, but luckily he was less stubborn. Steve couldn't say the same for Carmen._

It was cold tonight, the snow raging outside as the Tower filled with an unusual quiet. Most everyone was asleep, the three super soldiers having been some of the first to retire that evening. The hall guide lights cast a soft glow on the floor, illuminating the way through the building. Bucky lay awake, staring out of his window, clad only in sweatpants as the city lights reflected against the metal of his left arm. Steve, residing a few doors down, slept soundly and silently on his side, covers pulled only to his waist due to the serum that caused his body to heat like a furnace. Further down the hall was Carmen's room.

She woke up with a start, sweat beading on her skin, dampening her hairline. Swallowing thickly, heaving as she swung her legs over the bed and dropped her head in her hands. She was shaking now, eyes clenched shut as she willed the horrific images to go away. She hoped he didn't hear, even though he always does. Her room was just down the hall from Steve's, Bucky's being all the way on the opposite side, so he could help them during the early stages of their recovery and he was never unaware when one of them would wake in distress.

Curled over herself, she waited for the impending intrusion, Steve never hesitating to come knocking. Her breathing was frantic and she held her head in her hands as she willed herself not to cry. But as the images replayed in her mind, she couldn't fight back a sob that ripped through the air as she chocked on her tears. The room she sat in began to feel smaller as she struggled to get air, to block out those horrid thoughts, to take a deep breath, to think, to move, to do _anything_. She whimpered, just as the door swung open and closed as heavy feet made their way towards her. Large hands gripped hers, pulling them away from her head as she felt a presence crouch in front of her. She couldn't see straight, dizziness taking over her as she clenched her eyes shut, desperate to calm down.

"Cam? Carmen? Hey, look at me. Breathe," Steve soothed, crouched in front of her as his hands moved to her shoulders.

Her eyes shot open, dazed and wild before they finally focused on the blue orbs in front of her. He flashed a quick, sad smile before his hand moved to rest on her cheek, exaggerating his breathing for her to copy. For a moment, it seemed it would work to calm her, but after a few shaky breaths, the wave of pain crashed over her again and the tears fell harder. Normally, Steve would be very cautious and reserved when touching her or Bucky, not wanting to make them uncomfortable, but the sound of her sobs in his ear compelled him to wrap his arms around her, pulling her from the bed, and into his chest as he collapsed onto his knees. He shushed her quickly, caressing the back of her head as her tears wet his shirt.

"It's okay, you're okay. I'm right here, Carm, you're safe." 

He could feel Carmen's hands weakly attempting to push him away, shaking her head as she hiccuped, "I'm fine, S-Steve, I'm f-f-fine."

He sighed, pushing her back gently to see her face as he begged, "Let me in. Please. Talk to me, tell me what the nightmare was about. I can help you. You don't have to do this alone."

She swallowed hard, eyes darting between his as she breathed heavily. He could see the war going on behind her green irises, the debate raging in her mind as she mulled it over.

"I...it was..you. And I had to..they made me," she struggled to get her thoughts out, ragged breaths cutting her words and Steve placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder to coax her on, "They made me kill you. It was so real and I felt the blood and I couldn't wake up...I killed you."

He frowned, pulling her in to place a kiss on her forehead as he hugged her firmly. For the first time in what felt like forever, she reciprocated, wrapping her arms, metal and flesh alike, around his torso as she clung to him. He whispered words of reassurance in her ear, rocking her back and forth.

They stayed that way for what must have been an hour, talking about her nightmare, about her recovery, about her thoughts, her memories. When he was satisfied with the amount she had calmed, he pulled back to usher her into bed. To his surprise, she didn't protest, her exhaustion carrying her onto the mattress. He placed a final kiss on her head, patting her gently as he made his way out. He opened the door and was almost into the hall when a soft and frightened voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Stay," she whispered shyly, sitting up on the bed, her messy hair silhouetted by the city lights, "Please. I don't want to be alone."

It took Steve a moment to register the request. She had never, not once, even hinted at wanting him to stay. But now as she shivered from fear under her covers, desperate eyes lit by the lights from the hall as she silently pleaded with him. He shut the door silently, turning to walk back towards her, a gentle smile on his face as he nodded.

"Alright, Carmen, I'll stay. I'll stay as long as you need me to." He said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed as she scooted over, laying back down. 

He was about to lean against the headrest when he felt her cold hand wrap gently around his arm, pulling him towards the bed. He smiled to himself and complied, laying back and pulling the covers up over them. She hadn't let go and instead, tangled her fingers in his. 

"Goodnight, Cam," he whispered, squeezing her hand gently.

"Goodnight, Steve," she slurred tiredly.


	9. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This has a total crap ending because I started writing it a long time ago, never finished it, and have now completely forgotten why I started writing this in the first place. Enjoy this terrible chapter

**_ June - Avengers Tower, Manhattan, New York - 2021 _ **

Carmen sat motionlessly at her desk, pen grasped loosely in her hand as she stared at the blank paper in front of her. She rested her head on her left hand, nostrils flared as she sighed deeply and slapped the pen down onto the wood table. That afternoon, a new memory had surfaced, fuzzy and seemingly insignificant, but it sparked something in her. She used to write, hours spent smacking away on her typewriter, feeling the change in the air through her open window as the sun moved across the sky, colors changing and morphing behind the wispy clouds before the world was plunged into darkness. It must have been important to her or, she assumed, it would never have slammed her in the middle of a run, almost knocking her off balance with the force it tore through her mind. She shook it off and continued as normal, but the moment her feet hit the ground of her floor, she was desperate to get back to her room, skidding to a halt to open the door before lumbering in, frantically opening her drawers to grab a pen and paper, before plopping down into the chair. She'd been staring at the off-white for hours, willing her mind to think of _something_ to write, _anything_ to make her feel closer to the woman she used to be, who could instantly put words together to form a coherent thought the moment her fingers grazed the keys of a typewriter. She was useless with words nowadays.

The empty room was filled with the sound of her sigh and the screech of her chair as she pushed back from the table and dropped her head in her hands. She stayed that way for a moment before she was interrupted by a soft knock at her door. 

"Hey, Carmen?" Steve's voice floated through from outside and she perked slightly at the sound.

Normally, she would have conversated through the door, but the tone of his voice had her shuffling across the floor towards the exit to open it and peep through into the hall. She nudged her head into the doorway, curious eyes meeting his.

"What's up? Everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course," he said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck as he flashed her a sheepish smile, "I just, uh....well we.."

He seemed to stumble on his words, shaking his head before he straightened himself with a spring of resolution.

"The team has movie nights when we get the time; they helped me catch up on what I missed. I thought that maybe you'd like to join us?" He inquired, lip curled up in a hopeful grin, "You might enjoy it. We're watching _The Princess Bride._ It's a classic, supposedly a must watch. Any way you'd come down with me?"

Carmen cocked an eyebrow, pondering the invitation as her eyes slid to the floor. A movie night, she hadn't had a movie night in decades. Her memories of those times were faint, dream-like: weeks spent saving money for tickets, packed theatres on late nights, the smell of popcorn, the sound of laughs and voices and _happiness_ , squished between Steve and a version of Bucky she would never have believed existed. She remembered those nights, and above all, she remembered how happy they had made her. 

She hadn't realized she'd become lost in her thoughts until Steve cleared his throat, eyebrows furrowed. Meeting his gaze, she shook her head, a ghost of a smile gracing her lips.

She nodded, widening the expression just enough to allow Steve a glimpse of her mind, "I-I'd like that actually, yeah."

It seemed to take the man a moment to understand, cocking his head to the side before a wide grin took over, his stance relaxing.

"Really? Great, that's great. I'm glad. You wanna head down with me?" His smile was irresistible, reflecting onto her own face as she nodded, exiting her room with a newfound bounce to her step.

They walked briskly, light chatter filling the air as they made their way down to the lounge, passing the kitchen to grab a bowl of popcorn before meeting with the team. They were all scattered about the room, some on the couches, the floor, pillows were strewn across the place, gathered in arms, or placed under those sitting on the hardwood. The TV was on, the title screen for the movie laying in wait for someone to press play, and Steve gestured around the room, coaxing Carmen to find a comfortable spot to watch. She sent him one last smile, reassuring his unspoken concerns so that he felt free to find his own space, and looked back to the room nervously. Eyeing every nook, cranny, exit, and _everything,_ she stepped over an abandoned cushion on her way to one of the empty chairs. Scanning the laid-back Avengers, her eyes met with someone's she didn't expect to see out of his room: Bucky. He was rigid in the chair opposite the room, gaze wearily locked on her's and she nodded in acknowledgment, flashing him the most delicate yet awkward of smiles that was slightly forced upon her lips, slowly lowering in her seat as he returned the gesture. Steve watched the interaction with intrigue, smirking to himself as he moved his gaze to the screen as the movie began to play.

Nearing the end of the movie, the room was filled with soft snores accompanying the sounds of the movie. Many members of the team had succumbed to sleep, like Clint resting his head against Natasha's shoulder, Sam leaning with his arms crossed into the back of his chair, and Steve dosing on and off with his head resting against his fist. Carmen was wide awake, leaning slightly out of her seat as she watched in wonder as the film was winding down to a close. Bucky seemed to have relaxed in the cushions, no longer sitting with such a stiff posture, eyes glued to the screen and the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

It was almost...nice, to see him like that, as if the nightmares of his past didn't plaque him whenever he shut his eyes, as if the weight of guilt didn't weigh upon his shoulders. 

She looked away quickly when his head turned to her, placing her eyes back on the rolling credits in an attempt to pretend she wasn't just staring at him. But when his gaze seemed to linger on her just a little too long, she dared to meet it. A warmth spread through her chest that she hadn't felt in what felt like forever as he flashed her a smile, a true smile. The air seemed lighter, the tension between them easing slightly. 

A smile was all it took to set her up to fall head over heels.


	10. The Black Rose

**_ Unpublished article: Brooklyn Daily Eagle _ **

On a small little street on the outskirts of Brooklyn Heights, sits a large building with an even larger history. Purchased by Johannson Lamenski in 1918, it wasn't what you'd call, well, popular. That was, however, until the illegalization of alcohol in 1920. What was then known as _The Nightingale,_ served as a buzzing speakeasy that, against all odds, was never shut down. It was by no means hidden, and most people in Brooklyn knew all about it. The only thing that kept the booze it sold under wraps, was a simple codeword: "faufiler", French for "sneak it". If the place seemed at risk of being caught, the crowd would joyfully shout "faufiler!" through smiles and laughs, and anything that could tie to alcohol was skillfully hidden until the danger had passed. 

_The Nightingale_ was full of jumping dancers, flappers, and even, on occasion, gangsters. They'd swing the night away, drinking and having the time of their lives, while the band played it hot. The club ran through the duration of prohibition, up until 1937, when Johannson Lamenski fell into bad health and died on April 12th. Prior to his death, he gifted the club to the daughter of an old family friend, Carmen Van Duyn. Her passion for dance, music, and fun seemed a perfect fit for _The Nightingale._ She was 19 at the time, 8 years older than Lamenski's only son, Simon. Although the reasons behind it are only speculations, Ms. Van Duyn kept her ownership of the club relatively hidden, the knowledge known by only a few, and, surprisingly, her two best friends, Steve Rogers and James Barnes, were not among those. With the change in hands, came a change with _The Nightingale_ itself. The interior design, style, and even the hours took a new turn, and the club was given a new name, one that befitted the new proprietor: _The Black Rose_.

And business truly bloomed.

If you were one of the normal patrons, you entered through the front, opening the heavy, ornate, wooden doors leading to the entry hall. It was wide, with dark wood as every foundation. The walls were thick, beautiful trimmings lining the floor, red carpet on the ground leading the way in. A small desk sat midway, flush against the left wall with a mirror hanging above it. The music was audible from here, muffled as at it passed through the other set of thick wood doors, identical from the first, aside from the large handles on each one. Once the second set of doors was open, a whole new kind of nightlife started. The first thing you'd see is the massive stage, across the large dance floor. On the left was a long bar, aglow with incandescent lights that bathed the club in a moody yellow. A few tables lined the front wall, for those who struggled to party as long as they planned to stay, and allowed for a great view of the band. 

On either side of the room were identical spiral staircases, dark wood adorned with beautiful etchings, and steps covered in a dark red velvet carpet. They lead up to a balcony overlooking the dance floor and stage, its dark banister looming over the dancing crowd. It and the rooms it leads to are exclusively private, home to trusted workers, friends, and if the patrons down below are lucky, the owner herself. In the connecting room of the balcony, was the lounge. Dark oak wood floors filled the large space, red velvet was a reoccurring theme, on the carpets that laid on the floor, to the couches that sat in the center and corners of the room. An incandescent glow blanketed the room, old-style bulbs in every fixture. A few mirrors hung on the walls, a separate room on either side, closed off by large wooden doors, covered in ornate patterns led to a small hall on one side, and a boudoir on the other. Taking the door to the hall leads to one not unlike the entryway. It runs above the bar, leading to the back entrance, used only by Ms. Van Duyn and her personally selected, but rare, entourage. 

As the years past, _The Black Rose_ continued to thrive, even throughout the war. Before joining the aforementioned fight, Carmen Van Duyn asked of Simon Lamenski to run the club in her absence, exactly as she would. He kept his word, even after the tragic death of Ms. Van Duyn.

To this day, _The Black Rose_ still stands as a getaway for partiers and those in need of an escape from their daytime troubles. Its now loud and proud neon sign serves as a beacon for those with a passion for nightlife. The ownership has been passed down the Lamenski line, but their promise still stands. Not a thing has changed since the moment Carmen Van Duyn took her last steps upon its dark wood floors, and her portrait hangs honorably in the private lounge and entry hall. 

**-Unknown**


	11. Hair Troubles

**_ July - Wakanda, Africa - 2019 _ **

She woke up in a sweat, rolling around fitfully on her sheets as the light burned through her eyelids. Rubbing her face roughly, Carmen sat up with a yawn, fingers sliding up into the tangled mess of her hair which was sticking up in various odd directions. The sun was shining through the curtain in the window of her hut, the gold light irritating her tired eyes. The distant laughing of the village children met her ears and she slowly stood with a groan and a stretch. 

The heat outside was stifling, sweat stuck to her forehead and glued her locks to her skin. One of the children stopped briefly to giggle at the mess of her mane but she playfully stuck her tongue out and they ran away with a screech. A soft smile graced her features as she walked slowly towards the well in the center of the village, hairbrush in hand. The expression fell, however, when she raised her gaze to see the face of the last person she wanted to see in the morning.

Bucky was dipping his own brush in the bucket from the well, grumbling as he yanked it through his tangles, and Carmen huffed dramatically. The atmosphere seemed to stale, the group of kids staling at the sight of the two, huddling as they snickered and peered. Her pace slowed as he lifted his gaze to meet hers with a sigh. 

"Good morning." The statement seemed forced through his lips as he barely grazed his eyes over her face.

"It was."

An agitated grumbled escaped him, his mouth opening to retort but he was cut short when Carmen aggressively thrust her hairbrush into the bucket in front of Bucky, nearly smacking his hand in the process. Water sloshed out of the sides and flung in his face as she yanked back out of the bucket, and ripped the brush through her locks. 

She reached out again to get more water, but it was ripped away from her reach, and Bucky clutched the bucket to his chest.

"Get your own water bucket," He griped, childishly turning to block her from the bucket with his shoulder.

"Are you kidding me, Barnes," Carmen stumbled as she reached out for him and he sidestepped from her aim, "That's the only bucket for the well, I need some damn water for my rat's nest, and you'll look like a mess regardless so why bother with the hair?"

He eyed her for a moment, thinking before he nodded his head. "Fine, you need water?" He started sardonically, "My pleasure."

She didn't have time to react before the bucket was tipped over her head, soaking her down to her toes. The children began to giggle, and Bucky sent them a smirk. It was short-lived when her expression turned malicious. The kids dispersed quickly.

"Well since you were so generous, you can have the rest."

Carmen launched at him, angling her hit to knock him sideways and into the well. She looked down into with a sneer, drenched hair hanging off her shoulders as he hung from one of the bricks.

"Are you out of your mind? You could have killed me or something!" He shouted up from the pit, eyes wide.

Laughing, she rung out her hair, water hitting his face as she sighed, "Unfortunately, I doubt I would have. But hey, now we're even!"

"Even?! You just pushed me down a fucking well you-"

Carmen was already out of earshot, dragging her brush through her soaking locks as she retreated back into her hut.

From afar, Steve watched by Shuri's side at the edge of the village, shaking his head with a raised brow at the antics of his two friends. 

"Are they always like this?" He turned to her.

She met his gaze with a laugh, "Only on days ending in y."


	12. A Stranger in a Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmen runs into two strangers in a bar, one who will play a bigger role in her life than she'd ever know.

**_ Autumn - United Kingdom - September 7, 1943 _ **

Pulling her helmet off of her head, she slid it into the cubby and stretched with a groan. Heavy footsteps made their way behind her as a large hand placed itself on her back.

"I think I'm ready to crash." Steve's tired voice filled her ears and she turned to meet his fatigued smile.

Matching his expression, she gingerly rested her hand on his shoulder, shaking him softly as she agreed, "You should rest up. You've been kickin' your own ass the week."

"Are you going to do the same?"

"Later, I think. I'm gonna wind down a little before then."

A flash of concern filled his features as he studied her for weariness, "Are you sure? Do you want me to hang around with you until you head to bed?"

Carmen shook her head with a soft smile and moved her hands to guide him out of the show tent, "No need, Punk. But thank you though."

Steve's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at her again, opening his mouth to dispute but she sent him a motherly glare and affirmed, "You need to rest, Steve. I won't be out long."

They stepped off of the steps to the tent as Steve relented. With a smile, she shoed him off and kept on. Waving away a fellow showgirl, Carmen walked straight for the building to her left, looking down at her ridiculously patriotic dress with a groan, but too impatient to go change.

The bar was dingy, poorly lit with an unpleasant yellow hue, and packed full of drunken soldiers and civilians alike. Ignoring the shouts and catcalls in her direction, Carmen made her way through the crowd of inebriated people and found an empty seat by a large man at the bar. Yanking back the barstool, she plopped herself down into it with a huff and raised her hand at the bartender.

"Whiskey." Was all she said, and the bartender was quick to pour her a shot.

"Pretty strong drink for a dame like you." A deep gruff voice beside her spoke up.

She reached for the glass in front of her, not bothering to look at the man as she shot back, "Do you see the outfit I'm in? I need a pretty strong drink."

She threw the shot back and slammed it to the table, hands still resting around the glass.

He chuckled, shifting in his seat, and she saw, from the corner of her eye, him nod his head towards her. "You ladies really make the show. That guy up there looks like a prick."

"That _prick_ is my best friend. So watch it, jerk." She spat, finally turning to face the man beside her as she pointed her empty shot glass at him.

She had to admit, he was handsome. His hair was dark and thick, with strong facial hair. She couldn't see it clearly in the bar's lighting, but she gathered his eyes were brown. A set of dog tags laid around his neck. He was well built, muscular and very large, especially in comparison to Carmen's smaller frame. 

The stranger had his hands up in defense, a heart-stealing grin on his face as he tilted his head towards her.

"Hey, no harm meant, Sugar."

She eyed him for a moment, narrowed eyes giving him a once over as she leaned back slightly in her chair and scrutinized him.

"Best not have," she finally stated, easing back into her chair and placing her glass back onto the bar.

He stayed staring with an interesting look on his face until Carmen turned to him with a harsh, "What?"

He simply shook his head and mused, "Pretty protective over that friend of yours, huh? You know he's three times your size there."

A small, amused scoff left her lips as she shook her head and mumbled, "Didn't use to be."

He raised an eyebrow at her and she dismissed her own comment and sighed, "Our friend and I are all he has left. We're very protective of him, yes."

He nodded his head and turned back to the bar, raising his hand to repeat his last drink order and called out to the bartender, "Hey, bub, the same."

Turning back to her, he continued. "I get that," He chuckled again, but there was an air of something else behind the gesture, "Got a brother. We're it."

She hummed with a nod, staring into her glass as she swirled her finger around the lip of it.

With a quick glance towards him and back to the bar, she pipped up, "Name's Carmen, by the way. "

The stranger turned in his chair, extending a calloused hand to her as he nodded his head in greeting.

"Logan."

They shook hands, and Carmen took note of the strange stiffness in his grip.

Settling back in their chairs, Carmen gestured towards his dog tags, "You volunteer?"

Logan furrowed his brow before glancing quickly at his tags, "Uh, yeah, volunteered."

She hummed again, "Guess that's better. The draft's been catching a lot of people."

He nodded, silent for a moment until he lazily pointed at her outfit and questioned, "That friend of yours, what's he doing prancing around in tights? Guy looks like he could lift a truck."

A laugh escaped her and she bowed her head with a shake, "He could! But that damn ass Phillips gypped him. He's got more heart than half of the colonel's men but he's stuck dancing around the world with a bunch of showgirls."

She shook her head again, waving dismissively as she sighed, "But, I'm a shit gal for it, but...I prefer him dancing than getting shot at."

"It's a bitch, that's for sure."

He placed another empty glass down, his third shot, of what she'd seen, Carmen noted and laughed.

"You're making it sound like _he'd_ rather be shot at."

She sighed and glanced at him with an incredulous look, "He does, if you can believe it. He always has. That punk's been fighting for it since the war started," she shook her head and sighed again, "I guess I understand in a way."

Logan only nodded, turning to her for a moment before cocking an eyebrow at her and leaning back against the bar, "What about you? You'd rather be out there than uh," He gave her outfit a once over, "Doing 'Broadway'?"

Another laugh left Carmen's lips, "I might be doin' a little more than 'Broadway' but uh, it'd be nice to get the opportunity to at the least. For more than just me."

He tilted his head and downturned his lips as she added with bitter sarcasm, "But I guess someone has to cook for you men."

Logan's eyebrows raised as he turned back with a laugh, "Well, don't you know? We wouldn't get a war if you were all involved."

"Damn straight," she quipped back, deadpanning, "I'd have Hitler by the balls."

He fought from spitting his now fourth shot, as he wiped his mouth quickly, gulping the drink and chuckling. Carmen, who'd managed to keep a straight face, glanced at him before she too fell into a deep laugh. They glanced at each other through their laughter, shaking heads and both lifted their hands to signal another drink.

They laughed, talked, and drank, Logan more than her, for almost another hour before she felt the presence of another large man approach them. Logan had instantly stiffened, even before Carmen felt the presence of the new stranger. She felt an odd tension between them.

His footsteps were heavy, and Logan and turned in his chair to face him, with an odd expression. Carmen felt the stranger's large hand graze her back and she straightened immediately, placing her glass onto the bar, and whipping her chair around to face the man. Logan glanced to her.

The stranger was tall, as built as Logan, with equally dark hair. His, however, was cropped short, with a strong widow's peak, and dark facial hair. He seemed a bit older than Logan, and the look on his face made Carmen uncomfortable.

"You're a good looking dame," he drawled, voice deep, "Trying to keep her to yourself, Logan?"

He looked her up in down slowly, and a sour look spread on Carmen's face. Logan narrowed his eyes beside her.

"We're just talking, Victor," He had a sense of malice on his tongue when he said the man's name.

"No one keeps me to anyone." Carmen bit back, a look of slight disgust.

Victor tilted his head at her, intrigued by her feistiness as he nodded his head.

"Of course not," he grinned at her, "Wouldn't be fair if you were limited to just my brother here."

She glared at him, glancing between him and Logan, "I think I've had enough of a night," she slid off her barstool, tapping the bar and dropping money on the wood, "It was nice to meet you, Logan."

He sighed and nodded, getting out of his own chair. Victor took a step forward, and Carmen stayed where she was, ignoring the height difference as he towered over her and eyed him.

"If you'd excuse me," She spoke through her teeth and attempted to walk around him.

"Leaving so soon?" He didn't budge.

Logan moved forward and warned, "Victor."

His grin deepened as he looked to Logan, "I'm just asking the girl a question."

"What you should be doing is getting out of my way." Carmen's agitation grew and her voice grew harsher.

Victor cocked his head at her, hand reaching out towards her as he mused, "You got spunk, girly. I don't mind that."

She whipped her hand up, gripping his wrist roughly to stop him from reaching any closer, "Keep your hands to yourself, Ass."

It was then she noticed the odd way his nails looked. The griminess of them seemed more than just dirtiness. The nail appeared thicker, darker in color than she'd think natural, and looked almost sharp. His hand twisted in her grip, and his fingers wrapped around her own wrist, and it felt to her as if his nails were growing in length, pushing deeper into her skin.

Her eyes widened and she attempted to rip her hand away as Logan stepped forward, putting a hand onto Victor's chest and giving him a rough push.

"Victor, back off."

The back of Logan's hand looked strange as if something was pushing its way through it. Her breath sped up ever so slightly, and he pushed harder onto his brother's chest. Victor released Carmen's hand, taking a step towards his sibling as they seemed to snarl at each other.

"Touch me again, and you won't have any hands to do it another time." She barked, rubbing her wrist, "It _was_ a nice night. Take care of yourself, Logan."

She moved to leave, shoving past Victor, who barely shifted, as she made her way to the door. Logan sighed, moving to speak with her, but she was already gone. The sound of the two men arguing made it's way to her ears as she stepped out into the night. Looking down at her wrist, she grimaced at the marks there, almost claw-like in their appearance, and shook her head. With a fast push of air through her nose and a wary glance behind her back, she started for her bed.


	13. Run From Romania

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world finally catches up with the two ex-assassins on the run.

**_ Summer - Bucharest, Romania - June 9, 2019 _ **

They both left the apartment around an hour ago, Bucky turning towards the market to buy plums from a small fruit stand and Carmen off to finish helping the old lady down the road who paid them for house chores. She knew he'd arrive home before her, so she didn't rush, taking her time to fold the last bits of laundry and placing them atop the counter. When the job was done, and the kind woman placed the small wage in her hand, they waved goodbye and Carmen stepped out into the warm air. A police car shot past her down the road and she tensed at it, stopping to compose herself before continuing back to their apartment. When she arrived on the street, she looked in horror at the plethora of vehicles from the special forces surrounding the building. They flanked it on all sides, and she noted the vacancies in the cars. Carmen shuddered, knowing they were already in the building and fearing who they might have found. Every escape plan they've ever made ran through her head at lightning speed and her eyes darted towards the next building over, knowing if Bucky was still uncaptured, he would break for it's rooftop. Her gaze dropped for a moment, a small panic in her chest at the thought she couldn't save her backpack, but it left her quickly as she focused herself on what was most important, and launched towards the next building. 

She could hear the sounds of a struggle faintly from their apartment complex and sped up, using anything on the building that she could to get to the roof. When she was over halfway up, she saw something launch from a window of the complex and land on the roof above her. Knowing exactly what, or rather who, it was, she used all of her effort to complete the climb. When she reached the roof, she looked in confusion at someone attacking Bucky. The stranger wore a skin-tight, black suit, accented in silver, and she saw the glint of sharp claws as he went for Bucky's face. On instinct, she launched towards the two, jumping onto the attacker and tackling them to the ground. They rolled away from him, and his eyes widened as he recognized Carmen's form, protecting herself from the claws swiping at her. In a struggle, she was pushed off, and the stranger resumed his onslaught on Bucky. Carmen did her best to defend her acquaintance, but she noticed with confusion that the cat-like assailant had no interest in her, hellbent on Bucky. She was about to engage the person again when the sounds of a chopper broke her focus and she dodged out of the way with milliseconds to spare as they open fired. The bullets seemed to bounce off of the stranger's suit and he finally seemed distracted from Bucky. Suddenly, a winged man swooped in, kicking the tail of the helicopter and sending it spinning. She recognized him as Falcon, the man she'd faced before their escape from Hydra, and went to leave before her gaze was stolen by another man who'd jumped to the building. Steve Rogers stood at the edge of the rooftop, breathing heavily as his eyes locked on Carmen. She was lost for a moment before the sound of rapid feet hit her ears as Bucky took his chance to snatch his backpack from the ground and escape the roof. Carmen, ripping herself from her thoughts, followed close behind him, eyeing the assailant sliding down the wall with his claws. Jumping with careful precision, they made it to the street, Carmen running as fast as she could on the heels of the stranger as the racket of metal smacking the concrete sounded from behind her. She glanced beside her as Steve ran at full speed. Pushing herself as hard as she could go, she desperately tried to catch up with Bucky.

The chopper from before came spinning around the corner of the building, firing down at Bucky as civilians ducked their heads and ran from the chaos. She watched him as he redirected himself, making his way for the opening into the underpass and her jaw set. Forcing air through her nose, she sped up even further than before, passing Steve as she jumped into oncoming traffic behind the stranger. 

They bobbed and weaved through traffic, dodging cars and obstacles in the road at lightning speed. Carmen was hot on their tails, looking around wildly in hopes of finding an escape as the sounds of sirens echoed off the walls. As they sped through the underpass, Bucky darted to the side, leaping over a barrier and skidding in front of oncoming traffic. She mirrored the action, barely missing the side of a car as she stumbled into the concrete wall. Securing her footing, she looked up to see a motorcycle barrelling towards Bucky. Her breath hitched in her throat until his arm shot out and grabbed the handle, spinning the man off and the bike around as he threw his leg over the side, and took off down the road. She paused momentarily, a thought flitting through her head that she aggressively shook away, before she started again, eyes darting towards the stranger as he gained on Bucky, leaping onto the bike and tipping it to the ground. Barnes jutted his metal arm beside him, sparking against the asphalt to keep him from completely wrecking. Kicking the attacker off, Bucky righted the motorcycle once more and continued on.

Falcon, who had dived in through another opening in the underpass, was suddenly pulled down by the stranger as he clung to his leg. Steve, in a stolen, battered vehicle, caught up to the chase. As the chase nearly reached the end of the underpass, Carmen saw something fly up to the ceiling from Bucky's hand, and she skidded to a clumsy halt. The sticky bomb blew milliseconds after it attached to the concrete and the tunnel collapsed in a conglomeration of debris and dust.

She saw the tail end of Steve's car swing to the side as it rolled through the rubble and she dodged the wheel of it as she darted to the left and flopped over a barrier. Chest heaving from exertion and adrenaline, she flattened her back against the concrete barrier, squeezing her eyes shut to calm her mind as police sirens screamed in her ears. She hadn't realized her hand was shaking until she brought it up to her chest, unsteady fingers clutching the fabric of her shirt as she waited for the sirens to fade. The plan was far from foolproof, assinine almost in her mind, but it was be caught now, or caught later, and she wished for the most time possible. So, she waited, hidden by concrete and rubble, for the sirens to fade, and people to vacate the area. She vaguely heard her name from policemen's voices and cringed at the multitude of task forces most likely now looking for her head. Shot on site was her predictable fate, making her options all the more limited. Letting the time tick by slowly, she made a daring break from her hiding spot during a moment of silence, and slipped away into the chaotic city. Her mind went to Bucky, with a hitched sigh, and she hesitated, but only for a moment.


	14. The Beginnings of the Myth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief chapter, but an important introduction

**_Winter- Berlin, Germany- February 12, 1963_ **

Only whispered words and quiet talk spoke of what happened near Berlin starting just over five days ago, but it was enough for Hydra. Four, separate incidents of what some called supernatural in nature had occurred within only three days of each other, witnesses reporting the very elements of Earth rising and contorting in impossible ways.

At the center of each one, was a young girl, none older than the age of ten. Fear spread quickly, and it was a race against paranoia to secure their hands on the culprits. Hydra knew the truth behind the incidents; mutants, and more specifically, elementals.

With the current climate of the decade, the job would be even easier. The unknown frightened the parents of the children and they wanted nothing to do with them. For one, in particular, the struggles of everyday life grew significantly, now being ostracized for more than just her skin. This predicament placed serious dangers on the targets they wished to acquire and limited their time table. Shadow was assigned the mission alone, save for the extraction team designated to transport the children out of Germany, and she searched patiently for the right moment to secure each girl.

The first one, Tamara Herrman, was the youngest in the group, on her way to an institution to investigate and experiment on her newly discovered abilities. Gathering her conclusion from the reports, Shadow determined she was a geokinetic. It was important the extractions went swiftly with little to no witnesses, taking careful consideration not to deal with a first-hand look at any of the childrens’ powers. With that in mind, the less direct the incapacitation was, the better.

Shadow was equipped with a tranquilizer, perched at the end of the road, hidden in the tress as the extraction team waited at the gates, posed as orderlies. The operation went smoothly, the parents dropped her off, were stopped at the gates, the child was secured, and Shadow fired the shot. The young girl collapsed in seconds and the assassin moved quickly on to the next target. It took the utmost of three hours, Silvia Alteg, the pryokinesis, was next, followed by Katarina Friedrick, the hydrokinesis, and Nadia Stein, the aerokinetic. The ground team placed precautionary restraints on each of them and transported than in cages to the jet. After ensuring there were no witnesses, Shadow joined them on the craft and they disappeared into the dark.

The children woke up in a panic, pulling against their restraints. Their muffled cries fought past the thick glass and Shadow watched from outside of the bunker-like room. It was designed to withstand any strength of the elements the girls may unleash and would remain their temporary lodgings until they could be understood and, most importantly, controlled. Plans had already been formulated for their fates and some of the scientists and agents were more than excited to get to work. A few murmurs arose with the decision to place Shadow as the primary handler of the new team, but they silenced immediately with the Professor’s public endorsement and she was given near full control over the latest assets, despite the displeasure of the other agents.

Training and conditioning would begin promptly, introductions would be within the next hour, and Shadow stood with a stony expression, an impending sense of exhausting responsibility sputtering through her head.


	15. A Shadow's Silhouette

**_Summer - HYDRA Base, Unknown - August 21, 1988_ **

“Sir,” a nervous agent squawked at the Professor, struggling to look his direction, “She’s been erratic, completely non-compliant.”

The aged man showed no interest in looking towards him, eyes locked on the room in front of them as he merely hummed. Through the glass, Shadow was clamped tightly into a familiar machine, only now the number of restraints had doubled, and she was writhing with aggression any time someone would approach.

“Wipe her, then, and start over.” The Professor barked, finally turning towards the shaking man.

He seemed to shiver even stronger, stuttering as he brought a trembling hand up to adjust his glasses. His tongue poked out to lick his dry lips as he swallowed thickly.

“W-We have, sir,” he cracked out, clearing his throat, “Three times. S-She just seems to still remember. Her behavior hasn’t improved at all.” 

Breathing in through his nose, the Professor set his jaw, turning swiftly towards the door and angrily marching in. Shadow had begun to thrash again, screams muffled by her bite guard as she snapped and snarled. An agent had swung his rifle at her, anxiously waiting in case she managed to free herself. The Professor stepped further in, lowering the guns in the room with a single and gesture and stopping short with a stiff placement of his feet.

His hand rose to snap only once as he demanded, “Shadow.”

As if an invisible force had taken over her, the entire demeanor of the assassin in front of him switched. A dream-like stupor fell upon her at the sound of his voice, glazed eyes locked to him as her limbs seemed to fall limp. He sauntered forward, bending to meet her level, his age-weary face inches from her own. An unnerving, childlike expression filled her cloudy eyes and her lips parted as she seemed completely hypnotized.

“Shadow,” he again addressed her, furthering her fall into his spell, “you  _ will _ comply. Understood?”

Her eyes fluttered and darted between his, a lost and fearful look dancing in her irises, but the expression lasted only for a moment before her snarl struggled back onto her face and she hesitantly asserted herself with a shake of her head. A strange expression displayed itself on the Professor and he straightened without another word to her.

“Then we continue with the project.”

“But, sir-”

“You will do as I say!” He shouted towards the nervous agents, an unusual sight from a man who was always stoic, “I will  _ not  _ lose my greatest achievement to some-” 

He didn’t finish, nearly seething before he suddenly calmed, collecting himself with a steady inhale and readjusting his tie.

Clearing his throat, he repeated himself as if the outburst never occurred, “Continue with the project.”

The scientists glanced between each other in a panic but jumped into action with a pointed glare from the Professor. The room came alive in seconds, buttons and levers slamming around as Shadow fought against her restraints. Ever since her behavior had become erratic, modifications were considered and conducted for the memory suppressant machine, altering the way it operated on minds and how strong it worked. If they couldn’t take the memory from her, they would take her from the memory. A whir filled the room as the pads came down upon her face. Everyone was on edge as a scientist hesitantly started the machine fully. Electricity began to course through Shadow as she screamed with furiosity, minor convulsions taking over. They were unsure of what to do, looking between each other to see if they should continue, but seeing the expression of fascination on the Professor’s face, they swallowed their better judgment and stood steady. A minute at most had passed, her throat had to be raw by now, and trails of blood had begun to dribble from her nose and ears.

“S-Sir,” someone started, but the Professor shot a hand up and silenced them.

He took an entranced step forward, watching in awe at the effects of the machine. Her screams echoed against the walls, piercing the ears of everyone present, before unnervingly, they morphed. The shrill shrieks slowly turned into what they soon identified as... _ laughter.  _ Sadistic, liquidus laughter peeled from her lips, her mouth guard having fallen during her seizures. The Professor jumped forward, waving his hand at the agents and demanding they cut the machine, a glint of wonder painted faintly on his face. The pads lifted from her face, her head dropping forward as devilish chuckles still shook her frame. No on emoved aside from the Professor, arm outstretched as he called for the assassin. An eternity seemed to pass before her giggles died down and her head slowly lifted. A distant, unfamiliar look seemed to pass her eyes. An inky smirk was plastered on her cheeks, blood dripping now from her nostrils, and she appeared almost unrecognizable, her aura not of her own.

The Professor tried once more, with a more demanding tone, “Shadow?”

“No,” she croaked out slowly, cocking her head in curiosity as if she’d never felt her own voice pass her lips, “not her.”

“Excuse me?”

Her eyes lazily rolled to his, chuckling again darkly, “I'm not her,” she looked away for a moment in contemplation before returning her gaze, “I-I don’t think.” 

Glances were shared around the room, confusion and fear filled the atmosphere as the Professor eyed their new creation.

“I know who you are, at least,” the aged man perked at her statement, “I believe. I know everything she did. This... _ Shadow _ .”

Her tone was drastically different: Silkier, deeper, and utterly sinister.

“And you are not her?” he prodded, stepping closer as he angled his head back, scrutinizing her. 

“I am not.” She suddenly spit out, a flash of red-hot anger in her eyes before it vanished and she repeated levely, “I am not. I am...new.”

Her mind seemed to sputter for a moment before a sideways grin peeked through her lips, “Better. I am what she could have been, had she not been so  _ human _ .”

The two shared eye contact, the Professor’s stiff, steely gaze locked on her lucid, dark one, stalling for seconds before he turned his head towards the agents and lifted is hand. Hesitantly, the clamps on her arms were released with a jolt, her body almost slumping over. With her flesh hand shaking with the effort, she pushed herself up, raising her head to grin widely at the Professor. An odd expression of self-pride filled her expression, but with an unsteady stumble forward, the efforts of the machine took hold and she collapsed into a heap onto the cold floor.


	16. They'll Have Their Suspicions

**_Winter - HYDRA Base, Unknown - January 19, 1984_ **

They'd noticed a change in her behavior recently, a harsher, snappy mood had gripped Shadow and she'd begun to take it out on the team. The Sirens gossiped amongst themselves and speculations flitting through their whispers. There was a strange air circulating between Winter and Shadow and everyone knew it.

What was even odder about their leader was not her mood, but her health. She seemed slower, sluggish, and  _ ill _ compared to her normal spritely and determined attitude. Frequently had they seen her bent over, with a pale expression, breathing heavily through her nose with great irritation. Stranger so was WInter’s ever-present form hovering near her own. 

Today, was no exception.

An off base mission was assigned to them, a safe house given, and the six-person team set up shop. They completed part of the mission early that day and had since returned. Winter and even the girls had caught the ever-deteriorating strength of Shadow, the shake in her legs growing stronger as she was nearly weaving towards the van. To their great surprise, Winter  _ helped _ her into the car after she had stumbled with an angry groan attempting to get in her seat.

Currently, Shadow was now bent over the toilet, losing what little breakfast they’d had that morning.

Looking amongst themselves with raised eyebrows, Nadia, knowing better than to invade Shadow’s space, attempted to, unsuccessfully, stop Katarina as she blurted out, “Are you dying or somethin’?”

The group was instantly silent as Shadow’s shoulders cocked back and Winter shot Friedrick a warning glance.

“I’m fine.”

A scoff came from one of the girls as Silvia giggled at Katarina and dared to push more, “You’ve been throwing up your breakfast for half an hour. I didn’t even think you  _ could _ get sick.”

“Girls,” Winter started, but Shadow had already interrupted.

Slowly turning her head to face them, an angry scowl on her face, she growled, “I  _ said _ I’m  _ fine. _ ”

Another round of looks circled between the girls and the two who had braved the questions relented with a flash of their palms in surrender and turned to whisper with each other, once again.

After staring at them for a moment, Winter cautiously moved towards Shadow, who, at this time, had moved over to the sink, and was splashing puddles of cold water onto her face. Gurgling a handful before spitting it harshly into the bowl, she groaned with bitterness.

“Fuck this,” she grumbled as Winter bent his neck to see her face better.

In a quiet tone, although the Sirens were more than definitely listening, he bit, “We can’t keep this up. They’re already getting suspicious.”

“Well, we don’t have a fucking choice,” she spat back, her whisper scratching against her sore throat, “You think I’m having fun?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

The change in tone was odd to all of them, and after catching the raised eyebrow of Nadia, he lowered his head and his voice as he added, “We have to get you something, you know that. They won’t compensate for lost things if they don’t know about it. They won’t give you extra food or fluids.”

Her glare was potent even under her hooded eyes as she rolled them, “What the hell are we supposed to tell them then?” She half-shouted through her whisper, looking around before she lowered her volume and hushed, “I can’t say  _ shit _ that they won't catch on to.”

Rubbing his face, Winter sighed and rolled his neck, looking up to the ceiling as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Shadow sucked in a breath through her nose, the back of her hand coming up to rest against her tightly closed lips before she relaxed again and pushed away from the sink. 

“We’ll do what we can.” She whispered, sharing a glance with her fellow assassin before wiping her mouth and turning away.

The girls parted quickly and widely as she passed them, giving pointed looks to each one as she made her way to the backroom, searching through a bag she had appeared with after a scope out of the nearby town. The Sirens, who could be quite a nosy bunch, had been begging to know what was in it and what it was for, but all knew better than to even  _ look _ at the bag for too long. So instead, they listened, their hushed whispers dying down to silence, as they all turned their ears to hear what might be hiding. Winter had made his way towards Shadow, his heavy footfalls nearly drowning out the sound of her rustling.

_ Nearly. _

The distinct rattle of a pill bottle was faintly heard, followed by, what they assumed, was an ungodly amount of the tablets collecting in Shadow’s hand and being thrown into her mouth. The two senior assassins began to quietly talk amongst themselves, but they barely heard a word before the metal fingers of Winter’s hand pushed the door closed. The moment the wood grazed the door frame, the girls erupted in private chatter, shocked expressions and surprised giggles bouncing between the group.

“Pills! What is she taking pills for?”

“Winter totally knows something.”

“She must be like, dying or something!”

“They’re actually talking to each other.  _ With the door closed. _ Are they like hooking up or something?”

Words flew across the room at rapid speed, their volume still low to keep from being heard, but one siren stood away, her mouth closed tightly as she kept from the conversation. Nadia Stein  _ knew _ something serious was brewing amongst the group's leaders, and she had become determined to figure it out.


	17. Declassified Files




	18. World Exposition of Tomorrow

**_Spring - Brooklyn, New York - June 14, 1943_ **

“Alright, Kid, I’ve got to get going or I won’t be at the Expo on time,” he was piling his hands full of gadgets and tools, struggling to grab his suit coat from his chair, “You should come, Carm, support your ole’ man.”

She smiled with a shake of her head, hopping down from a desk and moving to help place his suit upon his shoulders.

“I am coming, Howard. Bucky’s taking us tonight, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, Barnes is taking you, I remember now.” He winked at her with a knowing tone.

She rolled her eyes, quipping, “With Steve.”

Howard only hummed, nodding his head with a raised brow. Carmen swatted at him as she shooed him off, scoffing at his antics. He scurried out with his shoulders up in defense and after a few moments to herself, she decided she’d be wise to head out as well if she wanted to be on time.

~~

The sun was nearly set by the time she made it to Bucky’s apartment. Knocking twice before opening the unlocked door. She called out for her friends and followed the quiet “here” from the back room, walking into Steve propped on the counter with a piece of cloth-wrapped ice held to his eye and Bucky throwing away a few bloodied napkins. Her shoulders instantly dropped, an exasperated look filling her features as she raised her hands in annoyance.

“Again, Steve?” Her voice was filled with agitation, but he could always hear the hint of concern in her words.

She was already up to the counter, gripping Steve’s small face in her hands and tilting it in every angle, pulling his hand from his eye to check on the darkening bruise. After assuring herself he’d be perfectly fine, she sent a hard smack to the back of his aching head.

“One day it’s going to be me kicking your ass, Punk.”

He was rubbing where she’d hit him, looking at her sheepishly as she shook her head and turned to Bucky.

“We picking up your dates at the Expo?” Carmen had made her way back to the doorway and leaned against it, arms crossed in front of her.

“They aren’t both mine, I brought one for Steve,” He started, turning from the sink and gesturing towards the blonde with a cocky grin, “and I woulda brought you one if I didn’t know you’d scare him off.”

“Oh, just wait ‘till we get there, I’m sure they’ll both end up hanging off your arms.” She scoffed out, “And thanks, but no thanks, Buck. I have no interest in any of your buds.”

“Why not?”

“Cuz they remind me too much of you.”

She deadpanned at him and Bucky mocked her expression, Steve snickering in the background, laughing at a bit more than Barnes realized. But after a quick glare from Carmen, he coughed away his giggles and hopped off the table.

“Well, we should probably go, before we’re late.”

“Looks like someone’s eager to meet a pretty dame.” Bucky joked but Steve eyed him as he passed.

Nodding his head towards Carmen, who was following him with a piercing gaze, he quipped, “I’m just eager to break the tension. C’mon, Jerk.”

~~

It was at the Expo, that the reality of today began to sink in. This was Bucky’s last night, possibly for forever, that he’d be gallivanting around New York. The last night that she’d see him, that the three of them would be together and her family would be intact. As predicted, the girls waiting for them had latched onto Bucky, completely ignoring herself and Steve, and with a smile exchanged as permission, they jogged up to the crowd in front of the Expo’s stage. Carmen slowed her pace, her expression dropping, and Steve matched her speed, giving her a reassuring smile as he took her hand.

“Try to have fun, he doesn’t want us to be sad.”

They looked at each other for a moment and after a tired sigh left her lips, she nodded and let go of his hand to sling an arm over his frail shoulders. They walked together towards Bucky, pushing through the crowd to watch the show. Bucky turned to smile at them as they approached, nodding his head towards the blonde girl with encouragement to Steve and lingering his gaze on Carmen for just a fraction more. The music had already started and Howard was making his way onto the stage where a few pretty dames stood as his assistants. Carmen had seen this all before and she truthfully had little desire to watch it on stage. The invention was awing, incredible to say the least, but it lacked fine-tuning, and she dreaded how it might turn out. It had failed in a plethora of ways in the lab trials and who knew whether it might explode in his face the next time he turned it on. The rest of her group was starring excitedly as Stark spoke, eager to see what futuristic design was about to be unveiled. A shiny, cherry red Cadillac was on display, the women removing the tires as Howard recited his spiel. Carmen was already ducking her head, attempting to protect herself from the second-hand embarrassment that was sure to come from whatever inevitable disaster was to occur as the craft began to hover above the stage with a loud whir. Oohs and ahs filled the crown and people gasped at the sensation, but an ungodly sound began to flood from the reverters. She was certain it was not supposed to be that loud, and as if on cue, a loud pop sounded as the car came crashing down in a furry of sparks and smoke. A few yelps sounded out before the crowd erupted into cheers. Carmen could see Howard sweating all the way from the ground. 

She shook her head as Bucky turned to grin at her and Steve, quickly returning the grin with half effort. But Steve pulled her attention away from him when he suddenly wandered off, and after her eyes followed where he was headed, she sighed with exasperation and jogged after him. He barely glanced at her as he hurried up the steps of the recruitment office. There were tons of people, kids and adults alike, bouncing from exhibit to exhibit, and Steve stepped up to a faceless soldier, projecting his own image upon the display that barely made it past the shoulders. Carmen stood back respectively as Steve looked on in disappointment. He had wanted this so bad for so many years, and with Bucky getting his orders, it only exemplified his desire. Yes, she had a hidden fire to be on the frontlines, too, but she knew it was a lost cause and she’d be just as close as Steve in getting into the fight. They were both the rejects, and no one would think them worth even cannon fodder. It saddened her to see him turned down, but a part of her was relieved. She needed him to stay with her, was desperate for it, and she’d do anything to stay by his side. When Bucky leaves, she wouldn’t be able to bear having Steve leave too.

Her aforementioned friend must have noticed the absence of the two, as he was now approaching. They shared a glance, but with a sudden feeling of exclusion, Carmen stayed aside as Bucky spoke up to Steve, shoving him playfully.

“C’mon, you’re kinda missing the point of a double date. We’re takin’ the girls dancing.” His voice was teasing, but they both noticed a hint of annoyance.

“You go ahead, I’ll catch up with you.”

Bucky’s expression dropped immediately, looking towards Carmen before he turned back towards Steve.

“You’re really going to do this again?”

“Well, it’s a fair. I’m gonna try my luck.” He, too, looked to Carmen, but she could only give him a shrug of her shoulders and a pitied look.

He turned his eyes back to Bucky as he chastised him again.

“As who, Steve from Ohio?” Steve’s gaze dropped, “They’ll catch you. Worse, they’ll actually take you.”

“Look, I know you don’t think I can do this-”

“This isn’t a back alley, Steve. It’s war.” Bucky stated, harsher this time.

“I know it’s a war.”

“Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs.”

“What do you want me to do? Collect scrap metal in my little red wagon?”

“Yes! Why not?”

“I’m not gonna sit in a factory, Bucky-”

He tried to interrupt, but Steve was determined to get his point out.

“Bucky, come on. There are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them. That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me.”

“Right. ‘Cause you got nothin’ to prove.”

Bucky was getting frustrated now, sarcasm lacing his words. Carmen knew how it would turn out if they kept this argument up.

“Alright, that’s enough,” She jumped in, placing herself between them as she pushed Bucky back, “We don’t have to fight about it.”

The brunette opened his mouth to bite back he silenced with a pointed glance. 

“You know how much this means to him,” She hushed before she gestured to Steve and said, “If he wants to keep enlisting, let him. He deserves at least that much.”

Steve smiled softly in appreciation, but she saw the disappointment in his eyes.

“Carm, you can’t possibly be on  _ his _ side about thi-”

“Actually, I am, Bucky.” She felt a sudden surge of anger flit through her and that little flame in her sparked, “I am on his side about this. He wants to fight, he deserves to. Because we both know he’d be one of the best. Hell, if I could, I’d enlist, too.”

Bucky was slightly taken aback by the switch of assertiveness, as she placed herself toe to toe with him. He wasn’t, however, unaccustomed to her fiery attitude.

“You’re just saying that-”

“I’m not. I would, too. But I’ve got  _ less  _ of a chance than he does,” She flashed an apologetic smile at Steve behind her and he shrugged her words off.

She turned to address Bucky again but decided to make her remark in private, excusing herself from Steve and pulling Barnes aside with a firm grip.

“I know  _ you _ don’t want to go, but you’re going. And we just have to sit here and get left behind. If he wants to keep trying to get where you are, for god’s sake, Buck, let ‘em. We never get a second glance. Don’t break his heart for trying to.”

He rubbed his jaw as he sighed, throwing his hands up in surrender as she crossed her arms.

“Alright, okay. But you can’t seriously want to be over there. You too are lucky they won’t pick you.”

“Not to us. We have to watch you go. We don’t get a choice. So if I lose you,” she swallowed harshly, eyes boring into his as they misted for only a moment, “If we lose you, we have to live with knowing we couldn’t do a damn thing about it. You’re leaving us, who knows if by some miracle he leaves too, where am I? Stuck here because I’ve got a damn pair of tits, and you don’t. ”

“Doll-” He was attempting to be serious but she saw the small snicker he suppressed at her blunt exclamation.

“Don’t ‘doll’ me right now, it’s true. And it weighs on us everyday that people are dying out there."

She held his gaze for a moment, arching her brow to reemphasize her intensity. He sighed and nodded, taking a deep breath as he glanced over to Steve who stood awkwardly waiting for Carmen to finish telling Bucky off, and then back to her. He'd miss her fire, her boldness, and her righteous but rebellious spirit. In the end, she was right. But it wouldn't stop him from feeling absolutely vexed with his two best friends self-endangering recklessness. 

"Please don't get yourselves killed." 

He surrendered, admitting he was not going to win this fight and decided to prioritize leaving on a good note rather than winning an argument. After she had promised they would not actively get themselves killed, he pulled her into a hug, knowing his night was running short. She held him tightly in return.

The embrace was short, and once they pulled away, they made their way back to Steve, just as Bucky's dates approached. 

"Hey, Sarge! Are we going dancing?"

The playboy act was instantly returned to his face as he turned around, "Yes, we are."

He turned to his friends again, walking backwards towards the girls. "Don’t do anything stupid until I get back."

"How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you."

Steve was quick to quip back and Carmen chuckled softly. With a gentle smile that fought onto his face, Bucky walked back towards them.

"You're a punk." He opened his arms to Steve to say goodbye.

"Jerk. Be careful."

They smiled at each other, and just before he walked away, he moved quickly towards Carmen, hugging her tightly as he lifted her feet from the ground.

"Bye,  _ Doll. _ "

With a signature wink, he sauntered back towards his dates again as Steve shouted to him. 

"Don’t win the war till I get there!"

And with a final salute, Bucky was off, leaving them for what could be the last time.


	19. Someone New

**_Summer - HYDRA Base, Unknown - August 22, 1988_ **

The Professor had a suite in almost every base; a large, clean, and well-furnished lounge that no one dared linger in front of its locked door too long. He was the sole member with access, and it was almost certainly a death sentence if you were “invited” to pass the threshold of its doorway. Only one had seen its interior and left with their life, multiple times in fact, and it usually became the talk of the day when Shadow’s form disappeared behind the closing door. Today was the same, aside from the gossip going beyond her presence in the Professor’s office, as it was now more focused on  _ what _ her presence even was.

After the entirely unusual turn of events the day before, Shadow, or rather not Shadow, was taken to the suite, upon the Professor’s request, and ordered not to be disturbed. He had vanished into the room for several hours, and after realizing she was definitely out for the count, he left to attend to other pressing matters at hand. The base had remained relatively quiet since then.

Suddenly, as the Professor was returning, alongside two other agents transgressing the hall, the antique phonograph from within his office scratched to life and a familiar song began to float through the thick door, which they soon realized was sitting ajar. A liquidous voice echoed over the singer on the vinyl and the Professor stiffened as he recognized the music:  _ Habanera  _ from  _ Carmen  _ by Bizet. The flowing flowing opera filled the hall through the small gap, her strong and theatrically expressive voice twirling around the men as the Professor rushed forcefully into the suite. 

His footsteps were almost swallowed by the volume of the song, but the assassin spread a delighted grin over her cheeks, angling her head to watch the elder man as she broke the lyrics to croon, “It’s such a lovely piece, isn’t it?”

“It is.” He replied guardedly, back straight as he observed her with great caution, “And who is this I’m speaking with?”

She turned absentmindedly with a shrug of her shoulders, popping the needle from the record and cutting the music short, “I don’t know yet. I still haven’t decided on a name.”

He would admit to himself, later, that very statement brought him an internal sigh of relief, as he had yet to determine if her choice of song was coincidental, or  _ deliberate. _

Nodding, the Professor relaxed his shoulders only slightly, readjusting a paperweight on his desk, which she had surely toyed with, and divulged, “I’d begun to worry you were a passing anomaly. I must say, I’m pleased that you are not.”

She narrowed her eyes with a smirk and he added, “You are intriguing, to say the very least.”

“Thank you,” she quipped, bouncing on her feet before returning distractedly to her previous statement, turning quickly to face him with childlike energy, “What about  _ Silhouette? _ A little play on Shadow? It’s funny, isn’t it?”

His lips parted but she gave him no time to answer, rambling on feverishly.

“I thought it was funny. It’s too long, though. What about Silo? Yeah, I like that. Call me SIlo. You can just put Silhouette in the paperwork.” 

She let out a short laugh and he was slightly taken aback by her commanding and confident attitude. But a pinch of his nerves warned him to be cautious, that her self-assurance might pose some trouble when the moment came for her to perform her duties. He would happily confirm that suspicion in a few years’ time. 

“Miss..uh,” he cleared his throat, waving his hand dismissively, “Silo. I’d like to inquire about some things regarding your...nature. If you please sit down.”

Her shoulders locked back suddenly, her nimble fingers gingerly placing a book on his shelf before she slowly turned to face him. Although she was new to life, she had already decided she did  _ not _ enjoy commands. Following a passing snarl, a charming smile presented itself on her lips.

“You most likely know more than I. As far as my understanding goes, I was just recently created. If I existed prior to today, I am absolutely ignorant of it.”

  
  


He squinted at her for a moment, skeptical, but after finding himself satisfied with the lack of deception, relented with a nod,

“Well then, I suppose we’ll  _ both _ have to find answers.”

Her smile widened wickedly and her arm shot out, metal fingers extended. They twitched and flexed like she was still unsure of how to use them.

“It’ll be a pleasure doin’ business with you.”

The Professor’s eyes narrowed again, looking from her hand to deep in her own eyes. His hand reached for hers, rigid and sharp, grasping hers with one short shake.

“It best be.”


End file.
